


It started with coffee...of course

by Xabisgirl



Category: Men’s Football RPF
Genre: Brief mentions of other LFC players, Coffee, Implied Hendo/Lallana, Implied VVD/Gomez, M/M, New Relationship, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-09-20 04:21:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17015619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xabisgirl/pseuds/Xabisgirl
Summary: Relationship origin story





	1. Well, it’s a start...

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, this will be several chapters. I just needed to write a beginning relationship story about these guys before I could move on to established relationship fics. 
> 
> I’m very grateful for the comments left on my previous work about Mojan, and I hope those people like this one too.

It started with coffee, of course. Well, it started with Dejan living five minutes further away from Melwood than Mo did, so it just made sense to pick him up on the way. And then of course to give him a lift home. Only Mo liked to drink coffee after training, so they stopped off to get some almost every day. And well, it’s only natural to have a chat over a coffee, so that’s what they did. Almost every day. 

They talked superficially at first, jokes from training, scores on FIFA, music tastes - although Dejan liked rock and Mo preferred R&B and garage. And so it went, almost every day.

One day, just like all the others, Dejan told a funny story from his childhood. Except it made him remember some of the less than funny events too, and his eyes filled with tears for a moment. He thought he’d done a good job of hiding it, but Mo was a perceptive guy. He leaned forward, his soft brown eyes sympathetic, and placed a warm hand on Dejan’s forearm. “It’s okay, brate”, he said. The use of the Croatian endearment touched Dejan, and he smiled, blinking back the tears. The moment passed, and their conversation turned to the latest crazy antics of Moreno in training, which had even made Klopp smile although he pretended to be cross at the distraction Alberto was causing. 

Later that evening, Dejan remembered Mo’s touch, indeed as he lay in bed he could still feel it tingling on his skin. What the hell? All the team were tactile with each other - Jordan and Adam would fall asleep on each other’s shoulders on long away trips, and he was sure Emre and Loris had been fuck buddies in their time at the club. Why had a casual, momentary touch stayed with him? Dejan tended to brood on things, so he found it hard to shrug the feeling off. But his last thought before he fell asleep was of Mo...and the first when he woke up. He realised he was looking forward to seeing his friend, had come to rely on spending time with him every day and missed their interaction on rest days. Well, okay, he didn’t make friends easily, found it difficult to let anyone get close to him, a legacy of his troubled childhood. God knows, girls had tried over the years, given his striking looks, lean muscular body and, he knew, his footballer’s salary. But they’d never quite managed it, he’d fucked them and left them in his wake. He didn’t think he’d ever been cruel to them, but he had been indifferent and most of them had sensed it.

Dejan was quiet at training that day, trying to work out what was going on in his head. Where normally he would sling an arm around Mo’s shoulders or even ruffle his hair as they walked out with the rest of the team to start their drills, today he felt strangely inhibited. But in the dressing room he had a new consciousness of Mo’s almost naked body next to him, found his eyes drawn to the other man’s sharply defined abs and beautifully contoured shoulders, found himself thinking of what it would be like to hold the smaller man in his arms and bury his face in those riotous curls. What. The. Actual. Fuck? His face reddened and he turned away, glad to hide his blushes as he pulled on his sweatshirt.

Dejan and Mo walked out to Dejan’s car as usual. Their routine was so established they didn’t usually even discuss it. After training and a healthy lunch in the famed Melwood canteen, Dejan drove them both to their favourite independent cafe that according to Mo did the best espresso in Liverpool. They had a table in a discreet corner and were usually left alone to enjoy their drinks and chat. But today Dejan suddenly felt resentful. Why did he always have to drive? Why was it him who usually queued up for the drinks? Why did he know exactly how Mo took his coffee - double espresso with one scant (and forbidden) teaspoon of sugar? Mo probably didn’t even know Dejan’s coffee order (flat white with the teeniest sprinkle of cinnamon). 

“Can’t do coffee today, sorry”, he told the Egyptian. “Oh” Mo said, surprised. “Everything ok?”, he asked. “Yes, of course”, snapped Dejan. He almost instantly regretted his tone, as Mo looked a little hurt, a quizzical expression in his deep brown eyes. “I, er, I’ve got things to do”, Dejan muttered more softly. “Okay”, Mo said amenably. “Maybe tomorrow then.” “It’s a date”, Dejan blurted, instantly feeling self-conscious about his choice of words. But Mo didn’t seem to notice his confusion and they drew up at Mo’s house, to Dejan’s relief. As Mo walked up the path, Dejan couldn’t help noticing how Mo’s tracksuit hugged the contours of his arse, tightening over each smooth round buttock as he walked. “Fuck’s sake”, he muttered and drove off with an unnecessary squeal of his tyres. Mo paused at his front door, watching the black Range Rover turn the corner. He sighed. How much longer was he going to have to wait for the big defender to realise his true feelings? After all, he himself had known from their second coffee together. But then he’d always known where his sexual preferences lay, whereas it was all new for Dejan. 

Mo shrugged as he entered his house; he could wait a little longer. It was best to let the Croat realise the situation for himself. Mo wished he’d hurry up though, as it was getting harder and harder to resist pulling his friend close into a definitely not platonic hug, and visions of his tongue tracing the tattoos on Dejan’s chest, and then slipping lower towards the waistband of his jeans, haunted Mo’s waking hours. He usually didn’t let himself hope for more but today, perhaps prompted by Dejan’s coolness in the car, he could not resist slipping his hand down his tracksuit trousers to his rapidly hardening cock. He imagined Dej fucking him, filling his arse and moaning his name. He came rapidly, as he always did when he allowed himself to fantasise about his friend, but was left fundamentally unfulfilled as usual. “Come on, Dej”, he thought to himself. “Hurry up and realise how you feel about me, please.”

Dejan was oddly restless that evening. He couldn’t settle to anything, no television programme held his attention and even his favourite computer games annoyed him. He thought of ringing Mo to suggest one of their online chess games, but then he remembered his embarrassment in the car and decided against it. He went to bed early - the medical staff would be pleased with him at least, as they were always impressing the importance of quality rest on the lads. In fact, sleep did not come easily, but he must have dropped off at some point as he woke with his usual morning erection. He idly massaged his dick, slowly at first and then with more purpose, erotic images flashing through his mind. Suddenly a vision of Mo’s naked body appeared, sweat running down the carved muscles of his back disappearing into the enticing groove between his muscular butt cheeks. Dejan’s arousal increased and he imagined himself parting Mo’s arse and pressing the head of his dick against Mo’s tight hole. “Fuck me, Dej” begged the Mo of his imagination, and he slid in with the ease of fantasy until he could get no further. His hand worked his dick harder as in his head Mo panted, “Yes, that’s it, oh please, please” and he thrust into Mo, slowly at first and then faster and harder. And as he came, it was Mo’s thick cock in his hand and Mo’s slippery ejaculate that painted his stomach. 

Even as Dejan lay there with the aftershocks of his orgasm still pulsing through his veins, his mind was working overtime. What the hell? Where had that come from? He couldn’t deny how turned on he’d been by his imaginings, what with the liquid evidence rapidly cooling on his skin. He had no problem with homosexuality, he’d just never thought of it in connection with himself. But shit, how was he going to face Mo later? Could their friendship ever be the same natural connection it had always been?


	2. It carries on with shampoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dejan is still confused, and Mo is not making it easy for him

Perceptive Mo (or maybe it was just that he was so attuned to Dejan) noticed the slight flush on the big defender’s face when he picked him up later that day and his reticence as they chatted on the short trip to Melwood, “Hmm”, thought Mo, “maybe he’s getting the picture...” That morning in training the coaches made the lads play the Musical Chairs drill, although in the absence of chairs they had to hug each other - the last person to join a group hug was out. Mo made sure he was close to Dejan on almost every occasion and, under the guise of enjoying the game, hugged him more tightly than was perhaps usual - although Virgil and Joey were certainly glued together most times the whistle went. 

Dejan was confused, He had noticed Mo’s tricks on the training ground, and now in the changing rooms he saw that Mo had stripped off his kit immediately but sat wrapped only in his towel until Dejan himself stood up to make his way to the showers. Then Mo darted to his feet to make sure he preceded Dejan. As they reached the showers, Mo pulled his towel off so Dejan got a good sight of his naked rear view, his defined arse cheeks with the little dents in the muscle showing to excellent effect. Dejan knew he was staring but as he was behind Mo he let himself look and look. But then, as they reached the shower cubicles, Mo whipped round so Dejan was staring directly at his dick. Blushing, Dejan ducked into the nearest shower stall and turned the water on, so he missed the cheeky little grin that lit up Mo’s face. “Yeah, you’re getting the picture,” Mo thought. “I just need to make it even more obvious.”

Dejan kept the water cool to discourage the semi that the sight of Mo’s body had provoked. He was washing his hair when he heard a voice ask, “Can I borrow some shampoo?” He turned around to find Mo standing there, water glistening on his perfect body. Mo had meant only to pique Dejan’s interest, but couldn’t resist gazing as the suds sluiced down the Croat’s long, sleek muscles and ran over the ink on his chest and arms. The sight went straight to his dick, and he started to get hard. Well, he thought, let Dej see the effect he has on me, and so he stood there unabashedly, holding his hand out for the other man’s shampoo. Dejan thrust his shampoo hurriedly into Mo’s hand and turned back to his shower, but not before a swift glance down at Mo’s semi-erect dick. “Thanks!” Mo said chirpily and went back to his own cubicle, smiling to himself at Dejan’s obvious confusion. He was so tempted to go back to Dej’s shower, slip in behind him and press his erection against that muscular arse. But it was better to let Dejan come to the obvious conclusion all by himself, which he would surely do, eventually. Wouldn’t he?  
Mo made do with his own hand, but his head was full of Dejan as he came.

Operation Torment Dejan continued back in the changing room. Mo walked over to return Dejan’s shampoo with his towel slung loosely round his hips, water still dripping from his hair, down his torso and disappearing under his towel. “Cheers, mate,” he said, then sashayed back to his bench. He took his time carefully drying himself, then dropping his towel he bent over to slip his feet into the legs of his briefs, giving Dejan a great view as he slowly pulled the soft underwear up his legs and over his arse. He might even have included a slight wiggle. As he pulled on the rest of his clothes, Lallana came over from his spot next to Dejan. “I see what you’re doing! Go easy on him, Mo, the poor boy’s tongue is practically hanging out,” “He’s looking, then?” Mo asked, “He’s trying not to, but not succeeding too well”, laughed Adam. “I almost wish your show was directed at me, but I don’t think Jordan would be too happy.” He patted Mo’s bum and returned to his seat, smiling to himself at the look on Dejan’s face.

Finally ready to go, Mo came over, wafts of his spicy Tom Ford cologne accompanying him. “Coffee, brate?” he asked. Dejan couldn’t think of an excuse, and if he was being honest, didn’t really want to. When they arrived at their usual cafe, Mo had another surprise. “I’ll get these”, he said. “You go and sit down.” Dejan was touched when Mo brought over a flat white with the perfect dusting of cinnamon. The conversation flowed, just like it always did between them, even though he was constantly aware of Mo’s long fingers wrapped around his cup, of the way his jeans clung to his bulging thigh muscles and of the smooth brown skin revealed by the rips in the knees, of the whiteness of his teeth against his beard when he smiled. When a strand of Mo’s hair fell over his face, Dejan wanted to reach over and brush it back into place. Hell, he wanted to run his fingers through those curls... “...didn’t you?” Dejan realised he’d missed what Mo had just said. “Er, sorry” he said. “I was miles away.” “You ok?”, asked Mo, hoping against hope he wasn’t misreading the situation. “Yeah”, Dejan muttered, “I’m just a bit distracted at the moment, I don’t know why.” He looked into the other man’s soft brown eyes and came to a decision.

“Can you come over tonight? I need to talk to you about something,” he asked before he could change his mind. They agreed a time, and Dejan dropped Mo off before driving home. He had tidy habits and a good cleaner, so the house didn’t need much work before his visitor arrived, but he changed the sheets on his bed without ever admitting to himself why he was doing so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somewhat of an interlude before things get hot and heavy in chapter three...


	3. Mint tea and beer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mo gets what he wants and Dejan still doesn’t know what he wants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A longer chapter for your, I hope, delectation.

As the time for Mo’s arrival came closer, Dejan became more and more agitated. He had changed into his usual Rock Filius T-shirt and track pants, but then changed again into a black shirt and jeans. He couldn’t keep still, kept moving from his sofa to the window and back to the sofa. He lit a candle, then blew it out as being too much, then he worried Mo would smell the smoke and know what he’d done. So he lit it again and thought, “Fuck it. It’s perfectly normal for a man to burn a candle if he wants to. Makes the room smell nice.” He thought about putting some music on, but decided that was definitely over the top. He plumped the already perfectly plumped cushions, and jumped a mile out of his skin at the sudden ping of the doorbell. 

Mo smiled a little unsurely as Dejan opened the door. He knew what he hoped the big man wanted to talk to him about, but at the back of his mind lurked the worry that he’d misinterpreted the situation and Dejan was going to say he wasn’t into guys, maybe even that they couldn’t be friends any more. Mo had also gone for a black shirt and jeans, and they joked about who wore it better as they sat down. Dejan made Mo some mint tea and got a beer for himself. “Drinking, Dej? We’ve got a match in two days.” “I know...I’ll just have one...need to take the edge off tonight”, Dejan muttered. 

They chatted for a while, but Dejan clearly had something on his mind, kept rubbing his hands down his thighs and picking at the rips in the knees of his jeans. “Can I ask you something?”, he managed eventually. Mo’s heart rate quickened, but he tried to reply calmly. “Anything, Dej, you know that.”

Dejan paused a moment, then asked in a rush, “Why don’t you haveagirlfriend?” Mo looked him straight in the eye as he replied, “Because I prefer men.” “Oh”, said Dejan. “I did wonder. I mean, you’re such a nice guy, you could have your prick, I mean, pick.” He blushed in a way Mo found utterly endearing, and he had to practically sit on his hands to stop himself cupping the other man’s face and drawing him close. Mo had decided he would leave it to Dejan to make the first move, didn’t want him to feel pressured into anything he wasn’t comfortable with. But his dick had other ideas and soon he had an obvious bulge in his tight jeans. He shifted, trying to conceal it but the friction only made matters worse. Dejan’s eyes flicked downwards, then back up to his friend’s face. 

“Do you, I mean, would you...?”, Dejan began, then he muttered, “Oh, fuck it. Me, do you want me, Mo? Because I think I want you.” “Think?”, Mo asked. “I’ve been burned by straight boys’ experiments in the past and I’m not sure I could go through that again.” Even as he said it, he knew it was a straight-up lie. He’d take anything Dejan would give him, one kiss, a blow job once a week or a mercy fuck whenever Dejan didn’t have anything better to do.

“I don’t know! I’ve never...this is all new to me”, Dejan pleaded. “All I know is I can’t think about anything, anyone else. I can’t make any promises. I might hate doing...er, making...” He went even redder. “I don’t think I would but how can I know?” He looked desperately at Mo. “I want to, you know, be with you. I’ll try not to hurt you, you’re my best friend, but I don’t know.” The last word came out almost as a growl, the emotion getting the better of him. Mo reached over and put his hand on Dejan’s knee. “Ok,” he said. “Let’s take the pressure off. We’ll do whatever you’re happy with tonight, and then tomorrow you can choose. No harm, no foul.” He genuinely meant the offer, but was also inwardly vowing to make sure Dejan would definitely choose to carry on with him.

Dejan nodded and reached out a tentative hand to Mo’s cheek. He stroked his thumb over the other man’s cheekbone, rubbing his soft beard and ghosting across his lips. Mo forced himself to sit still, not to twist his head and kiss the hand that was sending darts of fire straight to his groin. But he couldn’t stop his lips parting, his breath hitching or his pupils dilating. Dejan watched in fascination at the arousal the mere touch of his hand had provoked. He leaned across the gap between them as he moved his hand to the nape of Mo’s neck and up into his soft black curls. He pressed his lips to the other man’s, chastely closed, finding them as soft as any he’d ever kissed before. Mo groaned softly, fighting the desire to thrust his tongue into the mouth he’d been dreaming of for so long. Dejan started dropping soft kisses on Mo’s face, slowly getting used to the different sensations and scents of kissing a man. He put his arms round the smaller man,  
“C’me here”, he said, scooting his legs up on to the sofa and pulling Mo down to lie beside him. Now their torsos were touching, but their pelvises were still canted away from each other, Dejan clearly still not ready for contact lower down their bodies.

Mo caught his breath. He’d hugged Dejan many times before, but not lying down and he loved the sensation of having the big man’s arms around him. Dejan started undoing the buttons on Mo’s shirt, drawing the pieces of fabric apart so he could palm the tight nubs of Mo’s nipples and then run his hand over Mo’s taut abs. Mo wasn’t far behind in the shirt undoing stakes and he slid his hand lovingly over Dejan’s broad chest, tracing the outline of his pecs and six-pack, but careful not to wander too far down below his waist. As they shrugged off their shirts, there was a awkward moment as Dejan’s hand got caught in the cuff of his shirt so he just ripped it off impatiently, but it made them laugh and relax into their usual way of being together. Except now their bare chests were pressed together, one smooth and one hairy, and their kisses were getting deeper, tongues tangling together and their breathing growing heavier. Dejan reached down and grazed one of his large hands over Mo’s arse, clasping one round, firm cheek. It felt as good as he’d imagined and he squeezed the curve of muscle filling his hand. The movement brought Mo’s by now aching cock into contact with Dejan’s hip and it was only with a monumental effort that he resisted thrusting against it for some of the friction he’d been desperately wanting for what seemed like hours now. He couldn’t stop himself shifting a little closer though and a small moan escaped the back of his throat.

Dejan could feel the hardness of Mo’s cock as he lay against him. It felt weird, he thought, but in a good way. He kept on fondling Mo’s arse, even pressing him closer against his hip. Suddenly Dejan twisted his body so that they were pressed together along the whole length of their bodies. The world shrank to the point where their dicks were mashed between them, and Dejan instinctively started thrusting his pelvis towards Mo’s. “Aaaahhh”, Mo moaned and put his hand on Dejan’s hip to stop him. “What? Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry”, Dejan started to move away. “No, no, it’s fine. Really. Just ‘m gonna come in my pants if you do that much more”. Dejan hugged the younger man to him. “Sorry”, he mumbled into Mo’s hair. “I have no clue what I’m doing.” 

“You’re doing so good for someone who doesn’t know what he’s doing,” Mo assured him. “Just go with it.” Dejan took him at his word and started kissing him again. Dejan’s hands were all over Mo’s upper body, skating over the sharply defined muscles of his shoulders and upper arms or tangling in his hair, but he was reluctant to venture below the other man’s waist. He wanted to see and feel Mo’s dick, maybe even suck it, and God knows he wanted Mo to touch his, but it felt like it would be crossing a line they might not be able to get back over. Then he mentally shrugged his shoulders. He’d played in a fucking World Cup final, for fuck’s sake, he could do this. 

Mo was still exercising monumental self-control, nuzzling into the gap between Dej’s head and shoulder, but he jumped like a startled rabbit when the heel of his friend’s hand rubbed lightly along the length of his cock over his jeans. Then he felt Dejan’s fingers flicking open the button and sliding the zip down. Dejan stroked Mo’s cock through the thin fabric of his underwear, noting the small damp patch where he had leaked pre-cum as they made out. Mo was practically hyperventilating by now and despite his promise to himself not to press Dejan out of his comfort zone, his cock twitched in the other man’s big hand and he gasped, “Dej, please, I...”  
Then Dejan slipped his hand inside Mo’s briefs and he was no longer capable of speech. He’d imagined this moment so many times but it hadn’t prepared him for the reality of the electric shock of Dejan’s hand on his cock for the first time. It fit into Dejan’s hand like it was meant to be there, and as he jacked it up and down the sensation was almost too intense. Mo sagged against Dejan’s strong arm round his waist, his entire attention focused on the hand moving up and down his shaft.

As for Dejan, he was partly surprised by how natural it felt to wank Mo’s cock, partly turned on as fuck himself and partly proud of the effect he was having on the other man. Mo’s breath was coming in shuddering gasps, he seemed almost out of it, his head flung back, only Dejan’s arm holding him in position. Dejan kept up the rhythm of his hand and dipped his head to suck messily along Mo’s collarbone. Mo’s whole body stiffened and Dejan knew he was on the edge of his orgasm. He carried on pumping his hand up and down...Mo groaned in a sound that seemed ripped from the very roots of his being and came and came and came strongly over Dejan’s hand and wrist. Sensations fizzed like fireworks through his veins and his whole body shook with the intensity of feeling. Dejan cradled Mo in his arms as he came back down, muttering a stream of broken Croatian into his ear. 

They lay there for a moment, then Mo looked up through his eyelashes and asked, “What were you saying, Dej?” “Oh, I, uh...I said ‘oh yeah, that feels good, doesn’t it?’” Dejan told him. It was half-true, he had said that, but he didn’t reveal that he’d added, “That’s it, come for me, baby, you feel so good, coming over me like that.” He was almost shocked by just how into it he’d been, how normal it had felt to hold another man and bring him off, how much he’d enjoyed it, in large part because of the man he held in his arms. “Come to bed”, he said huskily, suddenly wanting to get naked with Mo. 

Dejan supposed it would have been more romantic if they’d kissed their way up the stairs and undressed each other slowly, but they’d practically run to the bedroom and shucked the rest of their clothes off, leaving them in untidy heaps on the floor. Mo lifted a corner of the duvet ready to get in, but Dejan flung it off the bed with one sharp tug. “I want to see you”, he said. “You’ve seen me naked loads of times”, Mo pointed out. “Not like this though”, Dejan said and pulled Mo down on top of him. It was scary how good it felt to run his hands over Mo’s body as he propped himself on his hands over Dejan. The position naturally brought their dicks back in contact, Dejan’s still hard from earlier, Mo’s showing signs of getting hard again even though he’d just come. They squirmed against each other, enjoying the slight friction, kissing and nuzzling each other. 

Then Mo slid over until he was lying pressed against Dejan’s side and could take the other man’s dick in his hand. It was longer but not as thick as his own, and he looked down as he fisted it, the plum coloured head appearing and disappearing as he pumped his hand up and down. A drop of pre-cum glistened on Dejan’s slit, and Mo thumbed over it, wanting to lick it off, but still slightly wary of making the less experienced man uncomfortable. Dejan turned to face him, trapping hand and cock between their bodies as they lay side by side. Mo wriggled up the bed slightly and pushed Dejan’s dick down so he could clasp it between his muscular thighs. Dejan got the picture immediately and began to thrust into the gap Mo’s thighs were making. After a minute or two, Mo whispered, “it’s better with lube”. “I haven’t got any,” Dejan almost wailed, but Mo reached down to his discarded jeans and took out a little tube. He warmed the lube in his hand a moment, then covered Dejan’s cock in it. Dejan resumed his thrusting between Mo’s thighs, the hard muscles creating a sensation he’d never felt before. Meanwhile, Mo’s cock, now fully hard again, was trapped between their stomachs.

The pace of Dejan’s thrusts increased and Mo worked hard to clench his thighs together to provide the friction Dejan needed. The big man was clasping Mo’s arse in his hands, his movements becoming frantic as he got closer to his release. And then Mo felt Dejan’s cock throb as he came, and the sudden hot wetness between his thighs. Dejan’s head fell forward on to Mo’s chest and he held him tightly. “Fuck, Mo, that was...” he started, but he ran out of words and just slumped against the other man. Mo rubbed soothing circles on Dejan’s back and kissed the top of his head. He was still holding back, still wary of spooking Dejan, but in his mind he had been repeating over and over again, “Oh fuck yes, Dej”, still scarcely able to believe this was actually happening when he’d wanted it for so long. Although he was hard again, he was happy to wait a while until, he hoped, Dejan was ready to go again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In one of the infinite number of possible universes, it must have happened like this.


	4. Pillow talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Later that evening

After a few moments’ silence, when their breathing had returned to near normal and they’d cleaned up a bit with the tissues by Dejan’s bed, Mo couldn’t help asking, “Was that ok, Dej?” He knew he shouldn’t, but he suddenly felt very insecure. When he was younger, he’d had men turn on him after sex because they’d been conflicted about what they’d just done and blamed him for it - it was easier than examining their own feelings. He didn’t expect that from Dejan but he just had to know how the other man felt. Dejan tilted Mo’s chin up so he was looking him in the eye and reached up his hand to brush a stray strand of hair off Mo’s face. “It was great,” he said softly. “You’re great.” He kissed him sweetly, and asked, “Will you stay tonight?” “Yeah, if you’re sure that’s ok,” Mo said, trying not to sound too keen. Sex with Dejan had been all that he’d expected and more, and to sleep with him and wake up next to him was more than he’d dared hope for.

Mo was beginning to feel sleepy, worn out from the anxiety he’d felt earlier in the evening and his intense orgasm. But it seemed Dejan liked to talk after sex, as he asked, “Mo, when did you know? That you liked boys, I mean.” Mo paused to think, and Dejan said hurriedly, “You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.” “No, it’s fine. I want to. I was about 13, I think. It was really hard, Dej. I didn’t even know there was a name for what I was feeling. I just knew I didn’t feel like the other boys did about girls. But I definitely thought Mousa - he was in the class above me - was cute.” Dejan took an immediate dislike to this Mousa guy for some reason. 

Mo went on, “And then as I got older I realised that how I felt was considered by most people where I lived to be disgusting and unnatural.” Mo’s voice broke a little on his last words and Dejan’s heart ached for him. “ But you’ve had...” He petered out, couldn’t quite bring himself to say the word “boyfriends”. “Yes, of course. And I’m fine with it now. I am how I am, y’know? It’s like my eye colour, or my height. I could maybe want to be taller, but it’s not going to happen, so why worry about it?” “But you can’t ever...” “Come out? No, not with things as they are.” Mo waved his arm on the word “things”, encompassing the views of most people in his homeland of men who loved men, not to mention the casual homophobia of a vocal minority of football fans and the salacious nature of the tabloid press. “Not publicly, anyway, but when I was at Basel most of the team knew, eventually. It’s surprisingly easy, actually, with a team mate. You get to spend so much time together anyway, and can be physically affectionate in a way that most men aren’t with their friends.” 

“You were with a team mate in Basel?” Dejan hated himself for asking, but he really wanted to know. “Yes, Phil, Phil Degen.” Dejan knew him, tall, dark, good-looking, defender, had played for Liverpool, even nicknamed Deggsie. “Wow, Mo, you’ve for sure got a type”, his sister had said when he’d been unable to hide his feelings for Dejan from her. He’d tried to protest, tried to insist it was different with Dejan, they’d got to know each other and he had fallen in love with the man. He might have first been attracted by the Croatian’s smouldering good looks, but now he loved his sense of humour, his sensitivity, how at ease he felt in the other man’s company. But it was easier to let his sister tease him, as little sisters love to do. 

“What happened?” Dejan broke into Mo’s train of thought. “Oh, it didn’t last, it was mostly physical anyway. I think we were both just pleased to have someone really. It was convenient...” Dejan wasn’t sure how he felt about this. He was a bit jealous, certainly, his mind’s eye seeing Mo in the arms of a tall, strong, muscly guy in some anonymous changing room. Also a little apprehensive...was that what this was, convenience? Mo must have seen something of this in his eyes as he hugged him closer and reached up a hand to stroke his cheek. “This...this isn’t like that”, he said sincerely. “Not for me, anyway.” He’d meant it to be reassuring, but it had come out a bit needy, like he wanted Dejan to reassure him too. Dejan blinked. “What is this?” he asked. “I don’t...that is...” Mo started and then settled for, “Whatever you want it to be.” “Don’t do that!” Dejan groaned. “Don’t make me responsible for defining it. You get a say too.” 

All Mo’s defences were down. He looked into Dejan’s eyes and said simply, “I’m yours, however much you want of me.” Dejan groaned again. “Stop putting it all on me to decide.” “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to. It’s just...my decision was made a long time ago.” 

Suddenly Dejan rolled Mo onto his back and slid on top of him. He kissed the younger man almost desperately, rubbing his body against him. Mo was almost instantly hard again, thrusting up against Dejan’s crotch. Dejan wasn’t far behind and they ground against each other, licking into each other’s mouths, their teeth clashing. Dejan’s hand snaked between their bodies and grasped Mo’s cock, feeling his arousal and stroking it almost frantically. Mo reached for Dejan’s  
cock in turn, rubbing his thumb over the head, spreading the precome he found there and then matching the other man’s strokes. Their breathing quickened and Mo buried his head between Dejan’s head and shoulder, nipping and sucking at the soft skin over his collarbone. Dejan slipped his other hand under Mo’s curls to hold the back of his head, never letting the rhythm of his other hand slacken. Mo came first, his whole body going tense against Dejan’s side, and a beat later, so did Dejan, tipped over the edge by the feeling of Mo’s hot spurts covering his hand. Dejan gave them both a moment to recover and then, very deliberately and keeping eye contact between them, brought his hand up to his mouth and licked Mo’s come off his fingers. Mo gasped and Dejan felt his cock twitch again between their bodies. Mo mirrored Dejan’s actions, never taking his eyes from Dejan’s face as he sucked his own fingers clean. “Fuck, Dej,” he muttered.

“I’m in”, the big man murmured. “I want to give it a go. I can’t make any promises - I’d say that at the beginning of any relationship - but I want to give it a try. I...want to be with you. Is that..?” All Mo could do was wordlessly clasp Dejan tighter and nod against his shoulder. He let out a shaky breath and relaxed into Dejan’s strong arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck at titles, sorry.


	5. There’s a first time for everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More developments in Mo and Dejan’s relationship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this has taken so long. I’m also sorry I suck at chapter titles and summaries. But I hope people who wanted more Mojan will enjoy this.

Two weeks after his first night with Mo, Dejan was feeling pretty good about things. He totally had that newly in love (and lust) thing going on. They’d spent as much time together as they could, making out like teenagers. He couldn’t get enough of having a naked and pliant Mo in his arms, endlessly fascinated by his hard muscles contrasting with the soft skin and hair. They’d even had to stop wanking each other off as coming so often was exhausting and their training numbers were dropping off a bit. Tonight though there was a week before their next match, and Dejan had plans, big plans. 

It had been really hard to behave normally at training and in fact he’d had to stop touching Mo casually as he usually did, as it was apt to give him a raging hard-on, just from the tickle of Mo’s hair against his cheek or touching the younger man’s bulging shoulder muscles. Even seeing the lines of Mo’s super-fit body outlined by his tight training kit was arousing and Dejan often had to keep his eyes on firmly fixed on something else. In fact, his behaviour had changed so much that people had noticed. As captain, Jordan had felt he had to check everything was ok between the two friends. 

“You okay?” Hendo had asked one morning as they did their preliminary stretches. “Yeah, skip, I’m good”, Dejan replied, wondering what he was getting at. “Only, I’ve noticed you and Mo aren’t glued at the hip like usual, like..” “Oh, erm, no, um, we’re fine”, Dejan managed to get out, hoping Jordan would ascribe his reddening face to the cold weather. “Good, I wouldn’t want Liverpool’s second most-famous bromance to be going sour!” Hendo joked. “Oh, it’s not!” Dejan replied perhaps a little too fervently, as Hendo shot him a quizzical look, before he was distracted by an argument between Trent and Robbo about their assists competition, Trent adamant that Robbo couldn’t count the one that Mo had only scored after a massive deflection.

“Fuck”, Dejan had thought. He knew he had no hope of acting naturally around Mo at the moment, not when every fibre of his being cried out to throw his arms around the Egyptian and press his body tightly to him. It was just easier not to even look at him, although he was always acutely conscious of exactly where Mo was at all times, not to mention who he was talking to and even what state of undress he was in. The temptation to drag him to an unused room at Melwood and just fucking touch him and kiss him and...well, it was taking all of his self-control not to do so.

But tonight, he thought, tonight he was going to touch every inch of that maddeningly gorgeous body, kiss those soft, full lips and anywhere else he could reach. Dejan was so lost in his thoughts of what he wanted to do to Mo that he took a moment to register that the man himself was standing in front of him. “Brate..?” Mo asked, softly. Dejan looked up at him with such naked desire in his eyes that Mo shivered. “Come on”, he said, adding “I need my coffee” for the benefit of those nearby. 

The heat between them was so combustible they’d taken to driving separately, Dejan having nearly run his car off the road because he could barely concentrate while Mo was palming his dick through his tracksuit pants, while also slipping down his own pants and fisting his erection. As it was, Dejan had to consciously try to keep below the speed limit and every red light and slow driver was infuriating in delaying the moment he could get his hands on his Mo behind closed doors. He shifted in his car seat, trying to ease the pressure growing in his underwear. “Come on, come on!” he muttered as a woman with a buggy seemed to take an age to cross the road in front of him. To make matters worse, she then recognised him and he had to smile and wave politely, when all he wanted to do was wind down the window and shout, “For god’s sake, hurry up. I need to get home to fuck my boyfriend!” He wasn’t so far gone that he couldn’t laugh at himself and the ridiculousness of that image, but it didn’t stop him putting his foot down as soon as the woman and child had reached the other side.

At last the two lovers were alone together, the rest of the world shut out behind Dejan’s firmly closed front door. Their mouths had just mashed together, tongues tangling and teeth clashing in their haste, when a noise from the kitchen startled them apart. Dejan’s cleaner’s head poked round the door. “Oh, you’re back early, Mr Lovren. Sorry, I was a bit late getting here so I’m running a bit behind. I’ll be out of your hair in a mo!” she said cheerily, “Hello, Mr Salah”, she added and then disappeared back into the kitchen. “Christ!” Dejan muttered, while Mo couldn’t help giggling at the big defender, his face a picture of frustration. 

They went into the living room, where Dejan threw himself on the sofa sulkily. “Patience, Dej!” Mo advised.”We’ve got all night.”

“I know”, Dejan groaned, “but I want you so fucking much. Come here”, and he patted the seat beside him. “Not until she’s gone” Mo said primly and sat on the sofa opposite. “As soon as that happens though...” he added suggestively...

“Yeah?” Dejan asked. “Well, then I’m going to take all your clothes off with my teeth”, Mo improvised, “and I’m going to lick my tongue down that groove between your pecs and swirl it round each nipple in turn, before sucking them hard until you’re begging me to touch your cock...” Dejan felt as though he’d been semi-hard for hours, but his cock was twitching just at Mo’s words and was now fully erect, tenting the front of his tracksuit. He touched himself and moaned loudly.

Of course, the cleaner chose that moment to reappear. Dejan crossed his legs quickly to try to hide his erection, so quickly that he trapped his balls painfully, bringing tears to his eyes and making him yelp in pain, a noise he quickly converted to a cough. “I’ll be off now”, she said. “I’ll be in on Friday, as usual.” “Great, thanks”, Dejan managed.

“Stop laughing”, he told Mo as the front door finally closed and they were alone. 

“I’m sorry, brate, but your face!” Mo couldn’t stop giggling. 

“Will you come here now? Please?” Dejan begged. “You were saying something about taking my clothes off...?” 

They ended up taking each other’s clothes off as they kissed frantically on their way to the bedroom, breaking off only to rip their T-shirts off over their heads. Finally, Dejan had Mo where he’d wanted him since the last time they’d been together, naked in bed next to him, pressed tightly against his similarly unclothed body. They kissed ever more fiercely, their hard cocks nudging together. Dejan could feel Mo’s cock leaking pre-come already against his sensitive tip. Mo was as good as his earlier word and set to tonguing Dejan’s nipples, sucking them into little peaks and then blowing softly on the wet patches, raising little goosebumps on the sensitised skin. Dejan ran his hands up and down Mo’s back, marvelling at the feel of his smooth muscles shifting and flexing under his fingers. He still wasn’t used to having a male body in bed with him, was still learning the differences with his experiences of women. 

Mo laid off his sweet torture of Dejan’s nipples and came up for more kisses, sucking and nipping at the sensitive area underneath his jawbone, Dejan threw his head back to give Mo better access, his breath coming in shorter and shorter pants. He pushed the smaller man onto his back and moved over him, licking his way down his chest, wetting the soft hairs there with his tongue, loving how Mo writhed underneath him. Dejan moved further and further down Mo’s body, while Mo moaned in hopeful anticipation. The noises his lover was making made Dejan even harder and he was determined to draw even more from him. Eventually he was level with Mo’s groin and hard and leaking cock. He’d jerked Mo off many times by this point, but never sucked him off. Mo had been holding back a bit, still a little concerned about Dejan’s lack of experience and unwilling to push him into doing something he wasn’t ready for.

Even though his cock was twitching in anticipation, Mo tipped Dejan’s chin up and asked, “You sure...?” Dejan nodded, and by way of further response touched the tip of his tongue to the head of Mo’s cock, licking a little experimentally at it. Both of Mo’s hands grabbed at the sheet underneath him, to stop himself thrusting up into Dejan’s mouth, but he was close to falling apart already. Dejan pulled back a little, and ran his tongue over his lips, tasting Mo’s tangy pre-come. He could smell Mo’s shower gel from after training as well a certain muskiness that was Mo’s own scent. Suddenly he wanted more of the hard cock in front of him and he took the whole head in his mouth, sucking greedily at it. He ran his tongue over the velvety surface, licking over the sensitive slit, causing Mo to jerk almost uncontrollably. Mo couldn’t stop himself clutching convulsively at Dejan’s head, a string of unintelligible sounds issuing from his mouth, although Dejan caught the words, “Oh fuck, oh yeah, ohhhh...” 

Dejan used one hand to jack Mo’s cock as he sucked and licked at it, while his other hand squeezed and rolled his balls gently. He built up a nice rhythm, enjoying the way Mo was coming apart under his hands and mouth. Mo looked down to see Dejan’s mouth stretched, puffy and red around his cock, and the sight tipped him over the edge. “Dej...” he managed to gasp before he was coming strongly down Dejan’s throat. Dejan had intended to take all Mo’s come, but he gagged a little, Mo’s cock slipped out of his mouth and the last hot spurt ended up on his chin. He lay there, his head pillowed on Mo’s abs, as Mo breathed through the last tingling feelings of his orgasm.

Mo tugged gently on Dejan’s short hair to get him to move up the bed so he could kiss the mouth that had just given him such pleasure. He could feel Dejan’s erection hard against his thigh, and he practically got hard again at the prospect of finally getting his lips around it.

But just then, they heard the familiar sound of a FaceTime request coming from Dejan’s phone. “Leave it”, Mo urged, but Dejan made the mistake of looking at his phone. “Fuck, it’s my mum”, he said. “Shit, I’ll have to answer it or she’ll worry”, he panicked, rubbing frantically at his chin where Mo’s come was drying on his skin. He pushed Mo under the duvet and answered his phone. 

Mo heard Dejan explain he’d been in bed having a nap, which his mum seemed to accept. But then she asked if he was ok, because his mouth looked a bit odd. Dejan muttered something about getting a knock in training. At this point, Mo suddenly realised he was under the covers with the object of his fevered fantasies in reach. As Dejan and his mum chatted about various things, Mo waged an intense internal battle. He wanted so badly to touch Dejan’s cock, even blow him, but then that would hardly be fair, while he was on the phone with his mum. Mo ran his hand gently up Dejan’s thigh towards his still hard cock. Suddenly Mo’s hand was held in an iron-hard grip from on top of the duvet. Dejan’s mum must have seen the sudden movement as he muttered something about cramp, again from training. 

Eventually Dejan managed to get off the phone by promising to call his mum later, although it took some time before she was satisfied he was ok. “Jesus, Mo!” Dejan threw back the duvet. “Don’t do that to me! I thought you were actually gonna...”

“What? This?” asked Mo teasingly as he took a firm grip on Dejan’s cock. “Oh god, yes”, Dejan moaned, tossing his phone onto the floor. Mo stroked him back to full hardness. “While I’m down here...” he joked. 

“Please”, Dejan begged. “I’ve wanted your mouth on me for so long.”

“Yeah?” Mo loved hearing this and brought his mouth closer to the head of Dejan’s cock. “Like this?” he asked and took it into his mouth, closing his eyes to savour the taste and feel. Then he really started to get into it. He knew exactly how much pressure Dejan could take, how much friction and how fast. He knew just when Dejan was on the edge of coming and slowed down and took his mouth off to delay his orgasm. He took Dejan’s full length down his throat, suppressing his gag reflex and Dejan couldn’t believe the sensation or the view as he looked down at Mo with his cock buried in his mouth. Eventually he could hold off no longer and his orgasm surged through his body. Dejan came in a burst into Mo’s mouth, and Mo took it all. 

When Dejan had recovered a bit, and they lay in each other’s arms, temporarily sated, Dejan still couldn’t get over what had just happened. “Jesus, Mo, that was amazing. I’ve never felt anything like it. God, I’m sorry, I didn’t know what I was doing at all.”

“Don’t be silly, i wasn’t complaining, was I?” Mo reassured him. 

“You did seem to be enjoying it”, Dejan agreed, and snuggled closer to his boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note this is just a story borrowing the personas of two of my favourite players and in no way connected to them.


End file.
